I'm Here
by PotionPolice
Summary: How do you comfort a dying man? Nymphadora faces this issue while losing the love of her life. NT/RL
1. Is He Afraid?

**I'm Here**

**By: HulaHula**

Disclaimer:I do not own anything from the Harry Potter universe. I just borrow them for recess.

Author's Note: I wrote this right after losing my Grandmother in 2006. Thus the majority of what is happens between Nymphadora and Remus in this story is taken from my experiences. I hope I do a good job of exploring her feelings.

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Seventy-two years, five months, and twelve days -- what more could she ask for? Nymphadora Tonks-Lupin glanced away from her withered calendar, letting it fall against the wall and squinted her still vivid blue eyes.

_What more could I ask for? _Fluttered through her consciousness again.

Seventy-two years of love. Seventy-two years of companionship. Seventy-two years of gentle glances in her direction. Seventy-two years of soft snoring in her ear just as she was about to fall asleep. Seventy-two years of that foot tapping the floor while she was trying to read. Seventy-two years of her ring leaving a small dent on her third finger. Seventy-two years of Remus Lupin.

The rhythmic rasp of struggling lungs brushed against her ear again, blocking out the soft click of the large clock announcing the coming evening hours. Tittering dangerously, Tonks turned her heels one at a time so that she could face their bedroom doorway.

At the age of ninety-seven, Tonks still stood straight. But pink hair had turned white. Blue eyes had become red at the edges. And even she admitted that her Auror figure had fallen a bit. But only a bit!

Once again the rasp became more pronounced as she watched two gray-socked feet twitch at the end of their four poster through the doorway. _He's thrown the sheets off again._ She thought irritably. Slowly, with more caution than she would have ever given in her youth, she ran her small left hand along the wall to keep her balance and walked across the worn floor. They had lived in this cottage for more than four decades and still needed to repair the loose floor board to the right of the door panel. Her pink bunny house shoe stepped over the spot without so much as a blink. Wrinkled knuckles held strong to the door panel, as Tonks' eyes fell upon her ailing husband.

_He needs sunlight._

Tonks sighed at the tossed sheets before crossing to the draped window. A high-pitched creak interrupted the humid quiet when she pushed the drapes to the side, allowing the sunset to flood behind her onto the side of the maroon decorated room. Instinct told her to replace the bed covers before he caught a chill. But, even though he did not voice a single compliant, having the sheets kicked to the side nine times was a fairly good hint that he was feeling a bit warm. As well as stiff, tired, and achy. Or at least, those were the only symptoms Remus would tell the Medi-wizard about. And Tonks was inclined to believe it to be true – He was just tired. Physically his body could not take anything else. Including a nightmarish transformation coming in one week according to the old calendar she had just checked.

_Remus,_ She thought, bracing her hands on the window sill and bowing her head_. What am I going to do with you? _

Craning her neck, she glanced at his beaded brow and then the covers again.

_What am I going to do _without_ you? _

A tiny splash landed on the dusty floor. Quickly, as if he might notice, Tonks wiped her cheek of its moisture and clicked her teeth. Holding her head up again, she tittered to the sheets and slowly folded them to lie beside his socked feet. She leaned over him to lightly place her palm against his clammy forehead. He did not move but a small twitch and then hitched breath. Although she could hear pain in his breathing, he looked peaceful. His bushy white eyebrows were smoothed straight – the creased eye lids relaxed. The only sign of his upcoming departure was the light bluish hue along the lining of his cracked lips.

"Water?" she whispered, running her fingers through the full white patch of hair above his forehead. His mouth slowly closed then opened again signaling that he was indeed thirsty.

Her practiced hand reached for a magically cool glass of water at the bedside table that had a small stick with a sponge attached at the end sticking out of the top like a straw. As gently as she could, she ran the tip of the sponge along his slightly swollen bottom lip letting the moisture leak in. Smoother breathing showed his appreciation. He was trying so hard. Trying to stay strong. Fighting for life – still . . . even after fighting for so long.

The glass clinked as she put it back on the wooden table. She felt his arm tremble against her hip. He was cold. Again. Huffing in frustration, she braced herself on the mattress and retrieved the thick sheet at the foot of the bed and flicked it over his shivering form. They looked brown in the orange light seeping through the window. She turned to push herself back to her feet when she heard a minuscule moan sound.

He wanted her to stay._ Is he afraid?_

A million thoughts were racing in the back of her mind. She locked them back there. If she let them reign free – she knew she would go insane. Her mind could not digest what was happening. So instead of curling into a ball and fading away beside his still form, she pushed her fluffy bangs back and tucked the corners of the sheet in beside his arms. She had performed this very motion time after time during their relationship. He was often chilled the morning after a full moon. Settling her hip into the mattress next to him. Her mind began to wander . . . flashes of memory swam forward. Her tension began to ease while her lips tilted upward. How many times had she shown her love for him by tucking warm blankets around him after his monthly nightmare?

A light "_Nnn . . . Nnn . . . _" broke her daze followed by a "_Tu . . . _"sound. Looking at his mouth she could see he was trying to say her name.

"I'm here." She whispered, settling her worn body along his side, resting her head on his bony shoulder. The tiny wrinkles along the sides of his eyelids smoothed. She tasted sharp salt as a thin tear settled onto her lips. The sun faded to blackness as her eyes fluttered closed.

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	2. Looking Rough

**I'm Here**

**By: HulaHula**

Disclaimer:I do not own anything from the Harry Potter universe. I just borrow them for recess.

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_They had decided not to have children soon after they became lovers. Remus did not want to burden a child with a monster for a father. Nymphadora did not wantRemus feeling irrational guilt every time he saw their child. The problem was not genetics. Lycanthropy could not be passed down through blood. The problem was Remus – and the demons constantly berating his self-esteem. _

_But, he did have children . . . of a fashion. Remus was everyone's favorite uncle in the Weasley clan. Not to mention Harry._

_Losing Harry had almost been the last straw. "The Boy Who Lived" ended up being "The Boy Who Had to Die" . . . in order to prevent the Dark Lord's evil from concurring the world. _

_Both of them had been on the field when a massive wave of raw magic blazed across the terrain, slamming anyone who was still standing to the ground. She had desperately turned corpses and checked dirt-covered faces for him. Her mind barely comprehended that most of the blood on her robes was not her own. Chocking on smoke and disgust, Tonks had mindlessly sprinted along . . . only thinking of getting to Remus. _

_He had not been crying beside Harry's unharmed corpse. Just sitting – knees folded beneath him as if he had fallen to them. Tonks could not even begin to decide what to say. Her instinct was to protect, as usual, to comfort and share his burden._

_The mud had made a squelching sound when she landed on her knees behind him and wrapped her bruised arms around his front. The war was over. But it left countless broken hearts and empty lives in its wake. Why did Harry have to die?_

_Kneeling with Remus in the middle of that smoking battlefield, Tonks had simply leaned her forehead between his shoulder blades and said, "I'm here."_

**BizzZZ! BizzZZ!** The doorbell broke into Tonks' daze. Sitting here beside her ailing husband presented only one major problem . . .

Time. Tonks had nothing to do really . . . besides wait. Thus, she found herself thinking on the past.

**BizzZZZ!** _Whomever it is. They are too persistent._ She thought while pushing herself up to a seated position, elbows popping, to go to the door. Glancing back to assure that Remus was still sleeping, Tonks lightly ran her fingers down his uncovered arm before shuffling down the front hall.

Auror instincts never leave a person . . . even at age ninety-seven. Grasping her wand, she opened the door enough to see who was there.

"Be a dear and let an old man in for a spell?" Arthur Weasley said, leaning his bare head in the doorway at Tonks' now smiling face. "I've brought you Remus' serum, seeing as I assume you've been too preoccupied to go into town for it."

Opening the door with a shrill squeak, Tonks chuckled lightly.

"Wotcher, Arthur," she said cheerfully. "I would be shocked that you remembered us, except I'm certain your wife is responsible. What would we do without the two of you . . . "

"Wah, one thing's for sure. You wouldn't be enjoying my wife's fine soup tonight if you didn't have us. She sent it with me as well." He winked.

The Weasley's had been their closest friends since before the second war had ended. Tonks could still remember the kind advice Molly Weasley had given her time after time while Remus was Underground. Tonks admired the mother of seven. If only she could be half the woman Molly was. Although the Weasley's were a good decade older than Remus and herself, they had failed to slow down. Especially recently, after they had announced Remus' health condition to the other couple. Molly was always eager to cook her love into anything Remus could handle eating. Arthur made daily visits to the Lupin flat, running any errand Tonks needed done and sitting with Remus when Tonks needed air.

Arthur set the warm soup container on a short table beside Remus' sleeping form.

"Looking rough, my good man." Arthur whispered with a sigh, staring at the sleeping man. He looked up when a loud clatter sounded from the kitchen. Tonks had gone to retrieve a spoon in hopes to getting Remus to swallow at least a few drops of his pain serum. Muffled curses echoed through the doorway, assuring Arthur that she was fine, just clumsy.

A flustered Tonks rushed into the room seconds later carrying a small wooden spoon.

"How is Molly?" she asked, blowing her fluffy bangs up with the corner of her mouth and popping the lid off the tiny tube of serum. Continuing to stand, Arthur began to tell about Molly's preparations for their youngest granddaughter's graduation. Tonks gently stroked Remus' still clammy forehead.

"Arthur is here." She softly coaxed.

Remus' light panting increased minutely, but Tonks was not sure he truly understood what she said. No matter, she interrupted Arthur, asking if he would help her slip another pillow beneath the sick man's head. Quickly adjusting the covers after moving him, she brought the tip of the spoon, half-filled with serum, to his pale lips.

"Remus. Remus it will help you rest . . . " she muttered, tipping the spoon a bit. But Remus did not move. His breathing accelerated even more. It was clear that he was trying to respond. To do what she was asking.

Arthur stood beside the bed, watching her attempts to get a response become more and more forced, almost pained. Warm liquid welled up behind her eyes. Too embarrassed to let tears fall, Tonks tried to hold back her frustration. Her veined hand began to shake, sloshing the serum off the spoon.

Crimson liquid slowly ran down Remus' chin and dripped onto his white collar.

"Tonks," Arthur's voice broke. "Maybe in a while– "

"W-what?" she stuttered, glancing up at Arthur on the other side of the bed. "He must take his serum . . . It's all he has to make the pain go away. He must . . . " Desperation seeped into her voice.

If Remus did not take his serum . . . then what could she possibly do for him? _If he's that weak already . . . No! I can't think like that . . . It can't be time for that already . . . It's too soon . . . W-what will I . . . I'm not ready . . . _

Tonks gave in to a choked sob, tossing the spoon onto the table and wiping his chin with a shaking hand. Her palm came to rest on his chest.

"Arthur . . . " she stated, head lowered, unable to meet his eyes.

"It's alright," Arthur spoke over her. He leaned over Remus and placed a warm hand on her trembling shoulder. Suddenly, Remus stopped panting.

Time stopped.

Unable to even gasp in shock, Tonks cracked her eyes open to see Remus' unnaturally pale face. The only movement in the entire room for the next second was Arthur's eyes widening. Then, as if Tonks' world had not just crumbled, Remus took up his steady panting again.

"Tonks," Arthur whispered almost fearfully. "I...I didn't realize he was this bad. I should go get Molly."

"What do you mean?" Tonks uttered.

Arthur straightened his back, then thought better of it when he saw her pleading gaze. Leaning over the ailing man, he cupped her trembling chin with his two hands and gently said, "I'm going to go get Molly. Stay strong, M'dear. I'll be back shortly."

Careful not to disturb Remus, Arthur walked to the doorway, wiping his forehead with his handkerchief. He paused to glance back. Would she be fine alone? What if Remus passed before he could return with Molly?

The couple made a very sad portrait from the doorway. Tonks sitting by Remus' side. Helpless.

"I'll be back soon." Arthur stated.

Tonks listening to Arthur's retreating steps and the front latch closing. Finally she was able to let the tears flow in earnest. Arthur had confirmed her greatest fear. Her time with Remus was drawing to an end.

Head bowed, she slid her hand over his heart and once again whispered, "I'm here."

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	3. I'm Here

**I'm Here**

**By: HulaHula**

Disclaimer:I do not own anything from the Harry Potter universe. I just borrow them for recess.

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"_...I'm here . . . "_

Her soft broken voice washed over Remus again. Pressure filled his entire body, leaving everything from his chest down completely numb. He felt so detached from his physical self, yet completely grounded.

Remus could not move. Could not breathe. Could not ask for help. But he could think. He had given up trying to decipher between what was real and what was a dream. However, all of the dreams were actually memories. None of which he regretted. _Nymphadora._ Always by his side. He could feel her more than hear her. Warmth filled his chest. Her touch had always affected him this way.

Nymphadora had been distressed earlier. Unsure why, he had tried to comfort her, but found himself unable to speak or touch her cheek. The thought of her being in pain itched at the front of his mind. _Don't hurt. Don't cry. I'm still with you. _How he wished he could say these things to her.

It was not as if Remus did not understand what was happening to him. Death was lightly tapping at his door in unison with his shuttered heartbeat. Someone was having trouble breathing. Their tiny gasps consumed his thoughts.

"_Does this match?" Her sweet voice echoed forth. Nymphadora stood, barely balanced, on a wooden spindle in front of their window. Glancing over her shoulder, she smiled. Curtains . . . ah, how she had wanted to mimic Molly Weasley when they'd first wed. Buying curtains. And then worrying if they matched! This was _not_ the woman he fell in love with . . . _

"_You, worried about matching colors?" His amused voice called out . . . _

This small snip-it of memory held no real importance. Yet, Remus was suddenly transported there. It was moments like that one that proved to him over and over he had been wrong all those years ago. No matter how old he was or how poor they were – life was not worth living unless they were together.

A warm chill ran up Remus' back and ended at the base of his skull. He hardly felt the strange sensations coursing beneath his skin. His soul was at the very tip of his existence. Floating shakily like a newborn bird tensing for flight. So close. But then something would call him back.

Quiet whimpering came into focus. _Nymphadora?_ Wait, he could not fly. Could not leave her yet. She was not ready . . . he heard the panting gasps start again.

"_It's from Minerva. She's offering the Defense position, again." He sighed, folding the letter a tawny owl had just delivered. _

_A sigh of disgust sounded from the other side of the kitchen table. "And what excuse are you going to give not to take it this time?" Nymphadora said with a tiny smirk._

"_I am thinking . . . a tropical disease eating away at my lever will suffice this time."_

_Her face split into a smile. "She's a stubborn lady you know. I'll give you . . . two more years before she wins you over. You'll be back at Hogwarts soon enough."_

_A week later, Remus climbed the stone steps up to Hogwarts' entrance to accept his job offer. Her voice rang through his mind then as clear as it did now . . . _

"_Stop worrying. If all else fails, I'll still be here, waiting for you to come back home."_

She had not lied. Nymphadora had always been there for him. Burning flooded the space where his heart would be. The panting became disconnected.

This time he was going to be the one waiting. Waiting for her to come home. Wherever home may be after he died.

Like the ripples in a river fading into smooth glass, the gasping eased into silence.

"_I should trim these again." She whispered, while running a finger over his thick white eyebrow. They were lying beneath the maroon comforter on their bed. Remus smoothed the long sleeve of her white flannel down to the cuff._

"_I suppose after seventy-something years of you cutting them I can't refuse." He chuckled._

"_Seventy-_something_?" She raised a brow and lightly pinched his earlobe._

"_Ow," he faked, gathering her a tad bit closer, "That hurts you know . . . Besides I leave the actual number of years up to you because you are far more capable of remembering."_

"_Seventy-two," she breathed, lowering her head to rest the crown just beneath his chin._

"_That long, eh?" he teased. A moment of still silence fell around them. _

"_I don't know what I am going to do when . . . " she started, snuffling. The medi-wizard had given him until the next full moon to live in their meeting that afternoon. Not a word had been spoken about it until now. _

"_Do you realize how unhappy you made me when we first met?" Remus mused aloud._

"_W-what!" Nymphadora leaned up sharply, eyebrows creased._

"_Mhh, you did,"He smiled down into her eyes kindly, "You're very presence, especially when you were telling me how foolish I was, never let me forget how alone I felt . . . before I met you."_

_Brow smoothing to her usual wrinkles, Nymphadora parted her lips to reply, but he lightly placed his hand over her mouth so she would not interrupt._

"_You always upset me because I knew you were right. I loved you. But I couldn't understand why someone like you would want to be here . . . be with me. Thank you, Nymphadora. For everything."_

_Glistening tears surfaced at the corners of her blue eyes. Speech abandoned her. Slowly, she moved his hand from her face to their side and lowered her head to his shoulder._

_He cleared his throat quickly and spoke again. "I'm not sure what the next few weeks will be like, but I want you to know . . . no matter how long I have left . . . I'll never truly leave you."_

_Logically what he was saying was impossible, but both knew it to be true. Their flat was filled with memories of him. And his memory lived in her heart. _

"_I know." She whispered._

Molly Weasley called the appropriate people to come help move the body. After finishing her floo conversation, she eased into the kitchen where Arthur sat with Tonks. Arthur met her gaze sharing that he too was concerned for Tonks' lack of tears, considering Remus had passed only a half and hour ago. Instead, Tonks was sitting calmly, clutching a warm cup of tea.

When Arthur and Molly had entered the Lupin flat an hour ago, they had found a red-eyed Nymphadora sitting in the same position Arthur had left her in. She had been steadily rubbing Remus' hair back as the ailing man's breath became more and more syncopated.

The older couple let Tonks know they were there, but silently agreed to stand at the back of the room until after Remus departed. Tonks did not seem to mind what they didnever takingher eyes off her husband's face.

Remus Lupin's passing could best be described as peaceful.

Molly slowly lowered herself into the chair beside Tonks, reaching to pour her own cup of hot drink. She glanced at Arthur then over to Tonks, eyebrows crinkled together. Tonks did not meet her eyes, instead stared at an undefined object across the room. Her expression was not one of shock, merely blank.

Laying a warm palm across Tonks' hand, Molly said, "Are you going to be alright, dear?"

Tonks suddenly sniffed in a deep breath and straightened her shoulders, turning her gaze to meet Molly's.

"Yes," she smiled softly, true happiness reaching her eyes, "Everything is going to be fine."

"That's good– "

"He knew," Tonks interrupted, "He knew I was there."

"You're right– "

"And he's here," Tonks spoke again, eyes crinkling as her smile grew.

Bright eyes began to glance around the kitchen, through the open bedroom door and living area.

"I've been so afraid. But, he told me, he did . . . that he would never leave me. I can feel him. He's here."

Remus' deep voice echoed through her memory . . . _I'm here._

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The End!

I hope everyone likes this. It is probably the hardest fanfic I have ever to written.

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